Come Hell or High Water
by Temerice
Summary: "This is where heroes and cowards part ways." While on the freighter, Michael meets someone he can't forget. Written for LostInLost18's Ficcing Challenge.


**Title:** Come Hell Or High Water  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own LOST. The title is from Nightwish's song "The Escapist".  
><strong>Summary: <strong>"This is where heroes and cowards part ways." Michael meets someone on the freighter.

**A/N:** I had a lot of fun writing this, though it was hard at the times : D. Hope you'll like it!

I'll let you decide whether Michael is a hero or a coward.

…

Tick tock tick tock.

Michael glanced at the food on his plate. Some yellowish fish and a couple of little objects that were claimed to be potatoes. He sighed heavily, turning to stare at the clock again. Tick tock tick tock.

If he could stop clocks and fix the mistakes he had made, everything would be fine. He would never have lost Walt, he would never have shot the two women who still haunted him every night in his dreams, he would never have gotten that stupid, tempting idea of killing himself into his head.

"Excuse me?"

Michael startled. In front of him stood a woman with long red hair and serious, almost bored expression on her face.

"Uh, yeah?" he muttered, unsure of what she would ever want from him.

"Can I sit here?" the woman cocked her head.

"Yeah, sure." Michael shifted his position uncomfortably to make her some space. She sat onto the chair on the other side of the table and started poking her food with her fork.

"This stuff is disgusting", she commented after a brief silence.

"Tell me about it", he chuckled. "I mean, the potatoes look like they could jump off your plate any minute and attack you whereas the fish is hardly ever been even alive."

The woman laughed. "That's true." She reached out her hand. "I'm Charlotte Lewis, anthropologist."

Michael shook her hand firmly but hesitated for a second before introducing himself.

"Kevin Johnson. I'm, uh, a deck hand. Some kind of janitor." (Honestly, couldn't they have put a little more effort on choosing his new name? Come on, he didn't even look like a Kevin!)

Charlotte abandoned her fork on her plate, obviously deciding to stay hungry instead of ending up with a food poisoning. "So, Kevin, what are you on the freighter for?"

For some reason (probably because he'd always hated lying) he wanted to tell everything about the crash, about being on that goddamn island, about finally getting away only to return there. But of course he didn't.

"I'm just looking for an adventure." There. Sounded logical. Well, at least more logical than "I'm trying to fix all my bad deeds by blowing this thing up at the end." He really needed to work with his attitude. "What about you?"

Charlotte remained silent for a moment. "I guess I'm here for an adventure, too. And money, of course." She smirked, but Michael sensed that her true reason for being here was far from logical, just like his.

However, he smiled back. For the first time in what felt like ages he didn't remember he wanted to die.

…

"Johnson! Clean up this mess!" Captain ordered as he hurried past Michael. He sighed heavily as he dragged his bucket filled with soap water closer and started mopping the filthy floor. He noticed someone had dripped blood everywhere. There were small stains even on the walls.

Distant high-pitched scream made him startle and stumble backwards, causing the bucket fall down.

"Son of a - "

Michael made an attempt to dry the wet floor with the mop but only managed to make the water run happily all over the narrow corridor's floor. He cursed under his breath.

"You call this cleaning?" Charlotte approached him slowly, trying not to slip on the wet floor.

"Uh, no, I was just..." As she came closer, Michael noticed her face was pale as a sheet. "What's wrong?"

"Did you hear about Brandon?" Charlotte asked hesitantly. They both flinched when more muffled screams were heard along with some words neither of them could work out.

Michael shook his head. He didn't quite know who this Brandon was but he had learned not to ask too many questions. No questions, no knowledge. No knowledge, no trouble. And being in trouble on this ship could never mean anything good.

"He left the freighter with Minkowski in the Zodiac raft to tour the Island. They returned an hour ago because Brandon had gone nuts before they reached the Island." Charlotte inhaled deeply as one last scream pierced the thick walls before turning into coughing and finally silence.

"What's wrong with him?" Michael asked carefully. He wondered if he should have said "What was wrong with him".

"He didn't recognise any of us, he spoke about weird things like he wasn't even with us, he started bleeding from his nose and ears and mouth..." Charlotte shivered. "Daniel of course found it quite interesting, sitting with him and making notes and asking questions."

Michael supposed that Daniel was that little physicist guy that always looked a little nervous and twitchy. He didn't know what he was supposed to say so he just stood there, staring at the floor and feeling quite awkward.

He didn't move until a quiet sob escaped Charlotte's lips. She hugged herself defensively as silent tears started rolling down her cheeks.

"Hey, don't cry..." Michael muttered hesitantly. He definitely wasn't used to crying women, and Charlotte had apparently known this Brandon guy well. What do you say to a person who's just lost a friend? "It's gonna be okay..." was all he could come up with.

"Yeah, sure it is", Charlotte snapped almost mockingly as she wiped her eyes.

Michael frowned. "No need to do that, man, I was just - "

"I'm fine!" Charlotte retorted before turning around and storming off, still wiping angrily her eyes. Michael was left to stand in the middle of the corridor, wondering if they were no longer allowed to show any emotions. Maybe they had never even been.

…

"Hey there!"

Michael turned his head to see Charlotte walking towards him. The sea breeze was messing up her hair and she looked more excited than he'd ever seen.

"Hi", Michael answered, turning back to watch that pilot guy preparing the helicopter. He had a morning off, but since he didn't have any books to read or friends to talk to here, he just spent his freetime standing on the deck, staring at the sky.

"I'm off to the Island soon." Charlotte informed him, unable to hide her wide smile.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Michael frowned. What about the monster? What about the polar bears? What about the Others? For a second he thought about warning her about those things, but unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?), unlike Michael Dawson, Kevin Johnson knew nothing about them.

"Wish me luck, will you?" Charlotte asked. Michael noted that her tone was almost playful. Was this woman really excited about going to that hellhole?

"Of course." He managed a smile. "Good luck."

"I'll be back before you notice", she smiled.

Michael watched as Charlotte hurried to the helicopter and started chatting with Faraday the Scientist Guy. He knew that as much as Kevin Johnson wanted Michael Dawson to forget the Island, Michael Dawson didn't.

…

Michael leaned back on his pathetic little bed and examined the list he had just written. Ben would be pleased with this final list. There were so many names written on the paper he didn't know how he had been able to remember every one of them, not to mention their careers, birthdays and other stuff. But luckily it was easy to forget them. It was easy to forget that they were all people. Names were just letters on a paper.

Except one.

_Charlotte Lewis, anthropologist_

Why did he feel guilty about writing it?

…


End file.
